The Italian and the Frog
by SynsAbyss
Summary: When France overhears a certain Brit plotting against the Allies, he is forced to turn to Italy for help after an unexpected turn of events. Meanwhile, England continuous his dastardly plan to take each country down one by one, and eventually take the world for himself. Will France be able to stop him, or will he fall at the hands of Arthur Kirkland?


**The Italian and the Frog**

A man strode through a deep red wallpapered corridor that seemed fit for Royalty. The floor was a mahogany coloured wood and gold smothered the handles of the many doors that the blonde, long haired man passed in his stride. His bright blue jacket matched his eyes beautifully. His figure was shown off only slightly by how tight the belt was around his waist. As for his trousers, they were a slightly duller red to the hall's wallpaper. Black boots thudded against the wooden floor, joining the endless mumbles that arose from his throat. He finally reached the end of the corridor and was faced with a white door, laughter echoed from the room behind the white barricade. The blonde sighed, reaching for the handle slowly. His fingers twitched as he took a hold of the object and took no hesitation in swinging the door open with a force that almost pushed the door off its hinges. The man flamboyantly jumped into the room, "Bonjour Mon amis [1] ! I have arrived!" He declared, his hands on his hips with a proud expression on his face.

Before him, stood up or sat down, were five men who were each unique to the other. The only man standing up known as America or Alfred, wore glasses to cover his emerald eyes and a brown bomber jacket over a sandy brown suit and trousers, which matched his hair that sported an upward cowlick at his parting to his right. The two men towards the back of the table were Russia and China. Russia was sat up straight with a gentle smile on his face, purple orbs staring into space. The Russian also called Ivan had a big white scarf wrapped around his neck and a long uniform a slight shade greyer than America's. China had long brown hair kept in a ponytail and a dark green uniform with a red band around his upper left arm. His brown eyes were focused on the Russian, watching him with caution as if he saw Ivan as a cold blooded murderer. One man wasn't stood or sat at the table; he was instead sat in the corner of the room holding what looked like a teddy bear. The man had light blonde hair which had a curl on his left and a cream uniform. He was known as Canada, or Matthew. The last man had blonde hair that looked quite untamed, emerald eyes glared into the space in front of him and rather large eyebrows. He was called England, or Arthur.

"Oh hey dude! You're lucky this isn't a world conference or the German would have kicked you ass by now for being late!" America declared, seemingly way too happily when he mentioned France getting hurt. France chuckled as he sat down, "_Oh hon hon hon~_I'm not late! I just had to pay a little visit to a lucky lady." England snorted whilst murmuring to himself about inaudible matters. "Anyway, let's get on with this meeting, and I'll lead! Because I'm the Hero!" America declared with a triumphant grin. And so the meeting started, including rows over who was to draw on the board and insults getting thrown across the table at various members. But one man picked up on something that the others did not. France could not help but notice that the Brit was acting strange, even for him! And what was with those books on the desk in front of him?

~ 2 hours later, the meeting has come to a close ~

The first to leave was Canada and Russia, Matthew seemed in a hurry seeing as Ivan wasn't very far behind him. "I think I'll leave as well, I have some business to take care of," Arthur stated, gathering his small pile of books that he didn't even touch during the meeting and walking towards the door. "Hold on Britain, what exactly is this 'business' you speak of?" Francis asked, "And what's with the books?" England stood in front the door, not bothering to look back at them as he mumbled his response. "Speak up!" Francis smirked. "What's it to you, francy pants?" He replied.  
"As your Ally I think I deserve to know!"  
"Well this is where you have to keep your nose out of my Business, otherwise you may regret it, you frog," Arthur growled before leaving the room, hugging the books to his chest.

Both America and China passed it off as the pair's usual banter, but to the Frenchman it was a sign that something was horribly wrong. He grunted as he stood up, walking over to the door. Not that he was worried or anything, just curious about his strange behaviour. Turning the door knob, he peered through the small gap between the door and wall, smirking to himself as he saw the Brit at the end of the long corridor, turning the corner to the next. "I shall be right back, Mon amis!" Francis stated before sliding out the door, not noticing that America and China were indulged in their own conversation.

Francis strutted down the corridor, smiling to himself. "_So here I am, following Arthur for the fifth time in a row_," he thought to himself. Soon enough he reached the end of the corridor, he pressed his back against the wall, poking his head around the corner to see if he was there. When he saw that the corridor was a dead end and that the Englishman was nowhere in sight, his smile grew into a smirk and he walked along the doors, listening intently for any sign of which of the doors Arthur was hiding behind. He passed one door after another, but no sound reached his ears. _No, no, no, no-wait a second!_He stopped by a door that had been left slightly ajar, and moving silently he stood next to the door and looked into the room. There he was, Arthur Kirkland. He had put his books to the side, but was still holding one and flicking through the book with his back to the door.

The man stopped on a page with a victorious laugh, which made France to frown slightly. What exactly was he doing? That's when the Englishman started to chant while putting his hand out in front of him, as if he was performing a magic show. "Oh dark spirits around me, gather to hear my plea! My plans have been wronged, my dignity harmed! Allow my shadow to live as a loyal minion, let it have the strength of a bear and the power of a lions crushing jaws," Arthur called out. Francis could not believe what he was seeing, was this man crazy or what?! But wait! The Frenchman's eyes widened in disbelief and horror, only able to watch from the side lines as a purple mist surrounded England. Arthur staggered slightly, like he had been hit with a sudden pain, but nevertheless he stood back up. "Oh dark spirits around me hear my command and do my bidding!" He yelled out at the mist. The purple gas rose slightly as if it was responding, then dove down towards his shadow and disappeared inside its chest. For a moment, nothing happened. Until a cry of pain erupted from Arthur's throat and he grasped at his chest. He kept a hold on his book, but his eyes squeezed shut and his legs almost fell from under him as he braced the obvious agony.

Francis was ready to dive into the room to steady the man and slap some sense into him for meddling with magic, but England's sinister laugh stopped him moving full stop. Francis' eyes moved back to the shadow and he almost cried out in surprise, there was an inky black figure climbing out of the floor in a rush, like it was hurting itself trying to get out of the floor. The figure looked like the silhouette of the Brit, who was half laughing half attempting to stifle his cries of pain. The only difference was that it looked like the figure could not stand up, and its fingers were spiked into claws. After a few moments, the creature was perched in an eagle like stance with its head bowed to his master. "You're beautiful, just simply magnificent!" Arthur declared, looking over his new pet. Two yellow, glowing orbs appeared where the creature's eyes should have been, and a clacking sound echoed from the demon.

Francis backed away slightly; about to run for help from America, when the Brit spoke, "I have called you from the spirit realm to help me in the quest to power. It is true that I have allies that are strong, but they are a risk to my plans." Francis stifled a gasp; he was plotting against the Allies?! England paced back and forth in front of the creature that still had its head bowed respectfully. "Naturally I would have called someone like you to dispose of them, but lately, I have been thinking..." England stated before coming to a halt, "Instead of ridding them from the universe, what if I could control them?" He smiled, a kind of purple aura radiating from him. The creature clacked endlessly, like it was communicating with Arthur.

Suddenly England froze, causing France to follow suit. The dark figure in front of the Brit shifted and that distinct clacking noise erupted from it once again. "Oh? We have a visitor do we?" Arthur growled, each word dripping with venom. The clacking came again and Arthur turned his head to the door way which the Frenchman was peering through. Knowing he had been caught, Francis sprang from his spot and fled down the corridor with a sudden speed he never knew he possessed. From inside the room a short yell echoed into the corridor, and then the door was burst open as the creature leapt after the Frenchman. Francis risked a look over his shoulder after turning the corner to see the shadow-demon moving across the wooden floor in a convulsing manner, it was like a dog bounding across a field - but with every small leap it ended up kicking off the floor, wall or even the ceiling diagonally. That frightened him.

He looked in front of him and automatically grinned, there was the door to the conference room! And by the sound of it, they were still in the there! He reached out for the golden handle, he was so close! That's when a clawed hand closed around his left ankle and pulled back with abnormal strength. Letting out a cry the Frenchman fell and hit the ground with a heavy thud. The creature clacked again like he was laughing at the man's terror. "Me descendre vous demon sale! Aller retour en enfer! Obtenez vos griffes sur moi [2] !" He ranted as he tried moving away from the creature, kicking at its featureless face. Arthur quickly caught up with the pair and nodded at the creature, which to France's surprise sank into the floor like a flowing liquid as it released his ankle. Francis squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again, to see the creature had once again become Arthur's shadow. Quickly coming back to his senses he growled and got up, only to be punched into the wall to the left. France looked around in a daze as England's shadow was cast over him. "You... You're going to betray the Allies!" France hissed. A hand picked him up by his throat as he was about to utter the last word, causing it to become almost in audible. Francis could only helplessly stare into the traitor's eyes with an unlimited amount of hatred.

"Hey what's going- oh," America sighed, seeing the two of them fighting. England quickly improvised, "The next time you try to grab my backside, you'll be going out a window you frog!" Alfred face-palmed and walked back into the room, shutting the door after him. Francis was going pale and so his captor dumped him on the floor, smirking down at him sadistically. "Come this way!" Arthur chimed.  
"Why the Enfer would I come with you, vous britannique demon [3] !"  
"It's not like you have a choice." Francis cried out at the sudden agony that ripped through his ankle and foot as a claw dug into it. Damn it, the creature! The shadow demon clacked at him, before walking after its master with a screaming Francis in tow. Blood oozed onto the creature's hand and the material around the wound, making the Frenchman scream even louder. "Laissez-moi vous occultez vermine, retour à d'où vous venez! Me libérer des saletés vous [4] !" He demanded trying to grab onto the floor as he was dragged along it. As they turned the corner he grabbed onto the wall, but with a swift pull searing pain shot through his leg once more and forced him to let go, the man was helpless as he was dragged into the room.

Francis hit the floor with a thud after being thrown the last meter of the journey. "What is the meaning of this Britain, Vous avez perdu votre esprit [5] ?!" He growled as nursed his ankle while looking up at Arthur who was sitting on a chair, facing him with a glass of Champagne, "You of all people should know not to meddle in the Dark Arts!"  
"Maybe... Just maybe..."  
"What are you on about?!"  
"What if, you twit; I have been using Black Magic since I was little?" England smirked, making France pale a little.  
"But... Wouldn't it of taken you by now? One cannot simply use it for such a long time without-"  
"I thought so too, but I took the challenge of the Spirits, the magic will not control me anytime soon!" Arthur chuckled, "Now, I can't kill you; that would just cause more problems!" He started flicking through his book casually, as if this were some ordinary event. Francis looked back at the door, slowly moving backwards until he sprang at it. But the shadow creature caught him from his side and swung him back to hit the ground at Arthur's feet.

"Tch, that won't work, frog!" England chuckled sinisterly, before his eyes widened. "Frog..." His smirk broke out into a full on grin, "Both ironic and a classic, I like it!" Francis grunted as he got up, only to be kicked back onto the floor. "Sorry about this old chap, oh wait, no I'm not!" Arthur laughed manically. He splayed his palm out towards the man, "Circle of Transmogrification!" That same purple mist spilled from his palm, circling the Frenchman and slowly making contact with the floor. A circle was burned into the wood around him, and just as he was about to move from the circle Arthur raised his hand to the air and purple fire sprouted from the line, trapping Francis within the magical fires. Shouts of protest and fear called out from inside the circle of fire which made Arthur grin. Happy that he had Francis trapped, he moved on and started to read from the book, "Oh dark spirits, I ask of thee, take the human in the circle and change him to a small creature! Let the fires turn his form into that of a frog, as the flames die out let him suffer in his own sorrow!"

A cry of agony that England had never heard before from France rang out from the flames, making him smirk. The fires slowly died down, and as there was nothing left of the flames, a small green amphibian seemingly unconscious in the middle of the circle of singed floor. England grinned, "I did it... I actually did it!" The creature behind him clacked in an angry way. "Oh sorry, I mean WE did it, how silly of me!" He chuckled sheepishly to himself before clearing his throat. "Take the frog back to my house, put him in the cage I used for the hamster," he ordered the shadow, who nodded and picked 'Francis' up before leaping out of a nearby window and into the night. The Brit picked his books back up before walking out of the room, murmuring to himself with his sadistic smile, "Nothing will stop me now, you'd better watch out world, I- Arthur Kirkland, have a surprise for you and I can promise you now, nothing will prepare you for the coming storm..."

* * *

Translations;  
1 - Good evening my friends  
2 - Get off me you filthy demon! Go back to hell! Get your claws off me!  
3 - Why the hell would I come with you, you British demon!  
4 - Let me go you shadow vermin, go back to where you come from! Release me, you filth!  
5 - Have you lost your mind?!

**Hello! SynsAbyss here with another story! I do hope you have enjoyed the introduction, I thoroughly enjoyed writing it! The next chapter will be out soon hopefully! Happy new year!**

**~SynsAbyss **


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